


Joseph Root, since when do you sleep on the couch?!

by j_obsessed



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Sleepy Kisses, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:42:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23855560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_obsessed/pseuds/j_obsessed
Summary: This is absolutely disgustingly adorable. Just a small something I thought of. Please enjoy :') God it's so gross but I was feeling things after watching some old matches of them together :')
Relationships: Jos Buttler/Joe Root
Comments: 17
Kudos: 19





	Joseph Root, since when do you sleep on the couch?!

When Jos walks into their apartment that evening after training, all the lights are off- except the tiny one in the kitchen, and it’s really quiet. He checks his watch, which flashes brightly, the only source of light illuminating the hallway- 18:35. It’s cold, winter just starting to settle, and the heater in their apartment hasn’t been turned on, which, is actually quite unusual, because Joe cannot stand the cold. He is sunshine personified, after all.

Jos drops his kit and toes his shoes off at the door, quietly making his way into their bedroom to find his fluffy little batsman. Except, he’s stopped in his tracks, because there’s a Joe-sized lump on the sofa, covered by three blankets. All the blinds are closed, and the younger boy’s phone is lying on the coffee table, next to a half-consumed mug of Yorkshire tea, and their wedding album. On a normal day, Jos would scold Joe for leaving the most precious book in the world in such close vicinity to tea, but right now he can’t bring himself to disturb the serenity.

The book is opened to a particularly specific page, one that Jos knows intimately. Might be his favourite photo in the whole entire world actually. It’s closer to his heart than the one of him slamming the ball through middle-stump, from _that_ super over of the world cup final. It's not even a contest really. When he told Joe that, the younger boy slapped his chest for lying. And then proceeded to make out with him when he realised that Jos was in fact, telling the absolute truth. This photo, is the most precious thing in their apartment. (Aside the sleeping bundle currently on the sofa.)

The photo is a shot of Joe- _of course it is_ , he rolls his eyes at himself.

The younger is smiling brightly at the camera, as Jos has two hands in the lapels of his suit, and has leant over to press a kiss to his cheek, grinning all the way. They’re on the dancefloor, surrounded by every one of their friends and their families, and Eoin is in the background with his hands on his cheeks, smiling so hard it may as well be _his_ wedding. Jos even remembers the song that was playing, ‘Say You Won’t Let Go.’

It was the song that got them together, actually.

Joe had opened the door for Jos, who had come to stay with the younger while the team was going to be playing Sri Lanka at Headingley. It was pouring rain, and Joe had pulled Jos inside, and into a hug, not giving a damn about the fact that he was now also half soaked, and that water was dripping onto the tiles.

They’d gotten changed, and were sitting on the couch talking, with the radio on. Their light conversation had been interrupted by the first few chords, and before he could say anything, Joe had offered him a hand, and asked him to dance. And Jos, being well, _Jos,_ has never been able to refuse Joe of a single thing. So, he had taken the younger’s hand, and they had slow danced, to James Arthur, in the middle of Joe’s Leeds apartment, lit only by a tableside lamp, while it bucketed down outside. 

Every time he hears the song, he thinks of those moments, and he thinks of his _husband._

His husband who is currently curled into himself on the couch, like a baby kitten. Eyes closed, face peaceful, loose blonde strands fanning across his forehead, blanket pulled up to his cheeks. Jos kneels beside the sofa, and presses a kiss to his temple, as Joe slowly comes to, recognising the familiar scent and presence beside him. He groans out an acknowledgement, before shoving his face further into the couch. Jos chuckles softly, and can’t help kissing the sandy hair peeking out from under the blanket.

“Hi baby.”

He gets another non-committal groan in response. Joe slowly peeks his head out of his blanket cocoon, and smiles softly, reaching up to peck him, feather-light and loving.

“Why are you on the couch sweetheart?” They’re so close, Jos still kneeling beside the couch, arm rested on the seat, and his head lying on his right bicep, Joe still laying in his blanket burrito, faces an inch apart.

“S’comfy,” He tries to make it as nonchalant as he can. Even though, missing your husband is something that is _totally allowed_ , even if he’s only been gone... four hours.

“Joseph Root, I don’t believe that for a second. You hate sleeping on the couch. You’re the one who drags me into bed after movie night." He says, with a fond grin. The younger doesn't reply, so he whispers, "Is everything okay baby?” as his left hand comes to play with the younger’s hair. The way Joe leans into his touch just proves that he is in fact, a kitten, and Jos just wants to tuck his husband into his arms.

It’s basically instinctive at this point, Jos sees his husband; Jos must squish his husband into his chest and never let him go. Joe, ever the sensible man, has never been one to argue with that very sound ideology.

“Was looking at our wedding photos, missed you, all that.” And while that’s definitely believable, and possibly partially the reason, Jos still doesn’t buy it.

“Baby?” The term of endearment is something Joe used to hate (not really), back when they first started dating. Jos would call him that and he would a) not respond to his then-boyfriend, and b) not be able to focus for the rest of the day. Now, the word can put him at ease, regardless of whether they’ve just lost a match, or Joe’s forgotten how to bat for a second. It just, fixes all his problems. So he relents.

“Bed feels weird without you. You weren’t here. Sleeping in bed without you is like, wrong. I don’t know how to explain it.”

He sees Jos’ lips purse, and an expression of pure _love_ cross the keeper’s face. His husband just leans closer, pecks him softly, and then again, even gentler, lips lingering on his, tasting slightly salty from sweat, but so unmistakeably _Jos._

Joe can’t help the sigh that escapes him, followed by a breathy “thank you,” which Jos ducks his head at. Joe is so unbelievably soft when he’s sleepy, lacks his usual composure, and it’s something that only Jos gets to see. He’s so grateful. 

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

Jos grins. “Impossible.” Joe leans closer to kiss him again, entangling his hand in Jos’ hair. He breaks the kiss, with a yawn, to which Jos starts giggling. Joe rolls his eyes, and tries to sit up, before falling back into the sofa, completely disgruntled. He scrunches his nose in anger. Jos pecks his forehead, and pulls off his training polo, before climbing in behind him, and wrapping strong arms around his middle. The keeper presses his nose into the younger boy’s hair, breathing deeply. “Your hair smells good. It’s so soft,” he marvels.

Joe laughs quietly, sounds more like a release of breath than an actual laugh. “S’your shampoo.” He gives away. He lets one of his hands play across Jos’ fingers.

“Did you really miss me that much angel?” Jos asks, tucking his face into the smaller boy’s hair.

“Always miss you. I don’t like when you leave. Don’t go anywhere ever again.” Joe can feel Jos’ whole body react to that. Can feel the way Jos’ cheek rises against his neck, lips twitching into that signature smile, and the way the arms around his middle tighten.

“Okay then. I won’t.”

They stay like that, legs entangled, warm and close. In theory, this couch should not be big enough for the both of them. But they’re attached together, neither knows where one begins and the other ends. A mess of tangled limbs on their couch, while the English winter sets in around them. It’s cliché, and adorable, and so perfect. Jos presses regular kisses into Joe’s back and shoulders and neck, before Joe starts squirming, and turns around to kiss his husband properly. They end up lazily making out on the couch, before Jos suggests he make dinner.

On a normal day, Joe would jump at the chance to see Jos in the kitchen, because Jos looks really really _good_ in the kitchen... But, today, that would mean that he’d have to let go of the keeper, and he is very opposed to that idea at this precise moment. Sometimes he wonders how Jos puts up with him. The older boy seems to be able to read his mind though, as he says, “how about we order Thai instead hm, I don’t really feel like letting you go.” Joe just nods against his chest. He whispers out another thank you, before reaching for his phone, and handing it to Jos, who unlocks it and starts tapping out an order on menulog.

It takes a while, but Jos finally convinces the younger to let him go for a minute, so that he can go take a shower. But the moment Jos has untangled himself and gotten off the sofa, Joe’s arms are back around his waist, and the younger’s face is pressed against his back. They end up showering together, Joe’s hands working shampoo into Jos’ hair, and Jos’ fingers massaging old spice scented soap into Joe’s back. Jos is towel-drying his hair when the doorbell rings, so Joe slips on one of his husband’s trademark New Balance sweatshirts, and gets the food. They sit on opposite ends of the sofa, feet entangled in the centre as they eat, until Joe can’t handle the space between them, and tucks himself back into Jos’ chest.

He’s falling asleep again, but, this time, he’s not alone. So he stands, reaching his hand out to pull Jos to bed. His husband looks up at him with a knowing smile, to which Joe rolls his eyes at before pointedly glancing at his outstretched fingers, one of which has a sparkling platinum band around it. Longer fingers intertwine with his own, as the keeper lets himself be tugged into their bedroom.

They fall asleep like they always do, facing each other, hands touching, almost held together between them, soft smiles on both their faces. They don’t need to turn the thermostat up; they can keep each other warm. By the time they wake up, Joe will have plastered himself completely to Jos, and the older boy will have an arm around his slim waist, and neither of them will have training, so they’ll spend their day like that.

In bed.

Because Jos doesn’t have to go anywhere, and Joe does NOT sleep on the couch.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I knew I loved you then](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24319189) by [Cricket_crazy28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cricket_crazy28/pseuds/Cricket_crazy28)




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